prostitute

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They say you see someone’s soul Through their eyes I see their souls In the money they Slide into my jacket  
She grabbed her pearl beads And her room key Left her soul in agony Cold street corners Search for donors Empty handed she won’t be Empty hearted, possibly Dying slowly, audibly
Watery eyes, gaze at the endless sky. A crumbling face, pale as moon Searching for hope in a nickel and dime.
Life is a pair of black corsets, fishnet stockings and cheap lipstick, suffering from the intoxicating riches of each breath. and in the midst of it all is a shadowed wrong turn, in which my legs keep gliding through air.
She was never the type to fall in love Rather fall into bed "Having a good time" was one of her mottos Got what she wanted then fled Hell no she didn’t want no ring on her finger
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